Rise and fall of the Devil Crown
by Murdoch Mortimer
Summary: The events that happened before Cave Story, from the creation of the crown to the war of the robots.
1. 1: Loneliness and Misery

**NOTE: This story takes place before the events of Cave Story, and considers the Best Ending to be true. Some spoilers may follow, so beware. Also, I do not own Cave Story nor any of its characters or other properties. This is only fanfiction made for entertainment purposes and nothing else. That said, hope you enjoy the story. It will be 4 chapters long and I'll try to keep the updates monthly, at the very least.**

**1. Loneliness and Misery**

In the blue sky that stretched to the horizon, cloudless and clear, there was an island. It floated gently and slowly, casting a shadow on the ground below as it drifted purposelessly like a cork in a calm lake.

Inside this impossible island there was a massive system of caves, ruins and other strange constructions. A multitude of creatures, from tiny humanoids to behemoths of steel burrowing in the sand, strived inside. An underground world floating in the sky.

It's in a cave this story begins.

Misery was contemplating the scenery below from the vantage point of a high cliff with a bored scowl on her face, tapping her staff idly on the ground. Below her a huge frog jumped clumsily after an equally overlarge insect and a jellyfish glided gracefully in the air, lighter than a feather.

Misery leaned on the wall with a slouch, and looked at a distance, her eyes unfocused. She was slim, pale and looked very much like a lost soul or romantic poet, alone and melancholic.

The effect was spoiled by a green blob suddenly flying in her direction, planning to flatten her on the ground.

Misery was startled and quickly dropped her lazily mysterious pose, pointing her staff at the creature and sending three balls of dark energy that vaporized it in mid-flight. The threat was gone, but Misery's heart still thumped from the surprise. After looking around she calmed down and returned her expression to an even darker scowl, glaring at the other monsters farther away. So she was too annoyed to notice the figure that had silently teleported just behind her.

"Having fun?"

Surprised for the second time in a few instants, Misery turned quickly and saw the face of her mother, Jenka, staring calmly back at her. She looked very much like a shorter version of misery, a bit more tanned and with long blonde hair instead of short and dark green. Her eyes though were much different, and betrayed more wisdom than her apparent age could possibly have. She looked like in her early thirties and her gaze calm, serious and unflinching.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Muttered Misery, still startled and displeased by the sudden intrusion when all she wanted was to be alone. Her mother raised an eyebrow but ignored the rude tone, replying:

"Just wanted to know how you are doing. No need to get angry."

"Can you at least not sneak up behind me?"

Jenka looked briefly at the monsters slouching at a distance, ready to hop into the air and menace any intruders that approached or provoked them. Then her eyes focused back on her daughter's defiant expression. "I thought it was best not to teleport in your line of sight, especially when you're tossing highly aggressive magic around like confetti," she replied dryly.

"I was caught by surprise, that's all," said Misery, her pale cheeks flushing slightly.

"What are you doing here, anyway?"her mother glanced at the gloomy surrounding area, the moss covered walls and the gravestone-like sentries posted below, ready to spit energy waves if attacked.

"I needed some time alone, ok?" She rolled her eyes impatiently and brushed some of her short hair away from her face. "Isn't it enough that I'm a prisoner here, now I have to be constantly watched as well?"

"Not this conversation again..." Jenka sighed, breaking her serene expression for the first time before being interrupted by her daughter.

"I've been kept in this island for all my life! I can count on my fingers the hours I spent in any other place, always under your supervision! 35 years! 35 years stuck in this place, with no one like me to talk to! Except, of course, you!" Misery stopped for a moment and caught her breath. Her hands were shaking from the outburst and now that the bravado had ended, a bit of fear crept in her mind. Her mother was clearly the most powerful of the two, and discussions like these tended to end badly for Misery. Not physical pain, of course, thought Misery. She was too refined for such things. Instead she gave her some task she hated or cut away one of the few entertainments Misery had. It was punishment, and made all the worse for how morally uplifting it was supposed to be.

"I said it before. I will let you go when you are old enough. When you are experienced and ready. The world... The world can be a cruel place," Jenka's voice grew distant and fainter at this, dropping down to a whisper. "I don't want something to happen..."

"But I DO know enough! I'm already 35, I know magic, even the advanced..."

"It's PRECISELY because you are a powerful magician that you need to be experienced, and self-controlled!" snapped Jenka. Her calm expression changing for the first time in the conversation into an angry one. "You may have years of living, but your mind is still of a teenager! Mopping around and brooding, as if you were the saddest creature on earth. Destroying the guardians in fits of anger, or on your whims."

"What should I do then?"

Jenka paused and breathed slowly, regaining her serene and detached manner before answering. "You could create."

She looked down and then pointed to a creature that was making its way carefully in the cave below. It was small and with short, white fur covering its entire body, from the sole of its feet to the tip of its large ears. It was walking carefully and staying away from the other guardians as best as it could. It had not noticed the two witches standing on the top of the cliff. "Look at the Mimigas, for example." Jenka continued, her expression going soft and a small smile showing on the corner of her mouth. "I created them to be intelligent and fierce warriors, to better protect of the island. However, they were TOO intelligent, I think. Soon enough they started forming communities, gathering food by other means and even honoring their dead. It was, I must admit, quite unexpected from what I had initially planned. But I allowed them to thrive and be as they wanted to. They may have weakened over time, not hardened by constant battle or over-strengthened by magic, and yet..."

Jenka's stopped speaking, lost in nostalgia, and she didn't notice the scowl Misery had once again. She raised one eyebrow, looking down at the unsuspecting Mimiga and with a wave of her staff sent a lightning bolt upon the poor thing. It yelped when hit by the sudden attack and ran away the opposite direction, dodging the other guardians' attacks while whining in pain and holding its ears. Jenka awakened from her reverie with a start and turned angrily at her daughter, who replied "these things aren't good for protecting ANYTHING anymore! Look! They've gone weak! You just like them because they remind you of your stupid dogs!"

And with those words she teleported with a flash before her mother could find any reply. Jenka opened and then closed her mouth, still surprised speechless by the outburst. She slowly calmed down again and thought to herself. She could follow Misery, of course, but it would be useless. When Misery and she had an argument, she would sulk for a few days at the very least. She was a good girl, but prone to fits of anger, depression and moodiness. Even her name pointed that out. When she froze her ageing, a ceremony of the highest importance to all mages, when they had to create a new name to themselves and to the world, what did she choose? Misery. And Misery it had to be.

In the dark cave, unseen by anyone, Jenka's face did a scowl that resembled her daughter's much more than either would care to admit.

-

Deep in the island's heart, in the middle of its vast waterways, Misery lay down on her bed and stared at the ceiling, her thoughts far, far away from the small room she called her own. It was a fairly cramped place, with a shelf filled with notes, annotations and scraps in one corner and a computer on the other. Misery liked the place for its isolation, which was not a problem for her teleportation anyways, and the sound of running water that helped her calm down. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine herself in a riverbank, looking at the small animals and insects thrive under the lazy sunlight, far away from that floating island.

Misery sometimes thought about her father as well. She had never met him, and so her imagination often made him a wonderful man, a powerful sorcerer, maybe a hero of some kind. Maybe he would come to the island one day and take Misery away with him, to live in the surface, to show her the world, so vast and mysterious. Many people have fantasies like these at least once in their lives. What if my parents weren't really my parents? What if I was secretly special from everyone else? What if I went to another world suddenly and was told that I was a prince, a princess, a magician? It's a common thing. The Changeling Fantasy.

Misery could control magic in a way normal humans could never hope to do, and lived in a place filled with wonder. And yet, inside that cramped room, Misery dreamed of a different life.

They had fought again, and this was bad, Misery thought to herself after calming down alone in her room. Her mother had the power to free her from this place, and angering her could only make things worse. Dreaming of being freed by someone else was good, but she couldn't rely on others.

Her mother's words came back to her, about creation and its delights. And how she smiled while describing the mimigas. Maybe the way to impress her mother was there? Creation magic was not out of her reach, although Misery favored aggressive and fighting magic much more. Creation was her mother's specialty, as the entire island showed. But maybe she could give it a try.

-

"Not this... No... This won't work either..." Misery tossed another scrap away and then looked around her. This was the labyrinth, a mixture of the island's scrap heap and home of the Gaudis, protectors of yet another creation of her mother's. She was always secretive about the importance of some things, and Misery couldn't understand why there were so many guardians in this island, or why the center was completely off-limits to everybody, including her own daughter. "She's probably just paranoid," muttered Misery, under her breath. She floated to a high ledge with only a door on the end and opened it, entering the room.

It looked like a hospital. There was a table, and a shelf filled with medicine bottles and bandages, among other things. There were two frog-like creatures sleeping in the corner of the room. Doctor and nurse, it looked like. Misery remembered something about them, the two took care of any injured Gaudi around, and were generally helpful. But her attention went to the corner of the room. There stood a robot with a large and grey body, shaped like a box. Its eyes stared straight ahead impassively, probably didn't have any commands to follow, and Misery walked up to it with an interested look. It was sturdy-looking and yet something in it just begged to be brought to life. In one sense, it was already alive. It was a robot, and by the look of things its main function was help in the infirmary.

"But not if I can help it..." Said misery with a small smile on her lips. She looked around to confirm that both doctor and nurse were still sleeping soundly and then silently concentrated on a spell... The image of the silent robot blurred for a moment and then, without much fanfare, there was a second robot that looked exactly like the original. Misery smiled, breathing deeply to recover from the effort, and then concentrating once again disappeared in a flash of light along with the original robot.

-

As Misery was busy with her newfound project, Jenka was equally concentrated in her task, inside a much darker and emptier cave.

"Aw, not AGAIN!" complained the dark indigo colored mushroom. But Jenka ignored the thing's voice and grimly stuffed it inside her bag. It would grow again in time. She had a task to do ahead of her, and although she did not look forward to it at all, there was no other way. And better do it while Misery was still busy sulking by herself, she thought. Then she closed her eyes and began to dispel the island's central barrier. Inside the island, there was only one place you could not teleport to, as long as the barrier was up. And Jenka had to go to that place right now. She had no choice, it was her self-imposed duty. Her burden.

Her brother.

-

And on the top of the island, amidst runes and magic inscriptions, the newly-created being opened its new eyes and looked around. Misery smiled expectantly at it, exhausted by all she had just done. Creation was no easy task, even if what she did was closer to modification. But she had created something indeed, she thought. And now was the time to test it.

"Who are you?" Misery asked. The thing looked at her with its big, innocent eyes and answered:

"I'm Balrog, your creation and servant."

"Excellent!" She said, her excitement growing. She had created something, after all. A personality. "Now, Balrog. You will protect me from any pest that comes to annoy me and do the tasks I ask when I cannot be bothered. You understand? "

"What are these things for?" Balrog pointed his flap in guise of an arm at the symbols all around him, a curious expression in his face.

"Hey, are you listening?"Misery demanded, her proud expression beginning to show traces of doubt.

"Yes, yes. Of course. I'll do whatever you ask of me," Balrog quickly amended, turning back to her with a slightly guilty expression, like a puppy being reprimanded for chewing on the sofa.

"Good. Now stay here for a moment. I need to introduce you to someone else. Be polite when you meet her, ok?"

And saying that she concentrated and with a flash of bright light disappeared. Balrog was not surprised because he knew his creator could do that. The knowledge was just there inside his mind, like his name and many other things. He didn't question or wonder about it. Balrog looked around curiously and smiled. Then he walked closer to one of the symbols on the floor and prodded it with his foot.

-

"Jenka. You still have not given up?"

The figure that stated this sighed in despair and bowed slightly his head, eyes still firmly closed. Jenka let her eyes travel quickly on the scenery around her before focusing once again on her brother. The floor was nothing but bones and remnants, and the air was heavy with an oppressive and tortured atmosphere. She was in great danger, she knew that. Every time she did this, she knew well enough the risk. The room diminished Ballos' power severely, true, but he was still dangerous and uncontrollable. She could not put her guard down for a single second, and never taking her eyes away from him, she answered. "I have to do this. It's your only hope for redemption at the end of this madness," and after a moment of painful silence, she added softly "I'm sorry."

She took out the mushroom from her bag and levitated it to her brother. His eyes then opened angrily and all pretense of calmness was lost. He threw a wave of ribcage bones at her, sharp as spears, and she deflected them inches before they could hit her. "LET ME GO. LET ME GO OF THIS ENDLESS HELL. FREE ME OR I WILL..." But his rage was cut short as the mushroom was hurled inside his throat. He choked and shut his eyes, stopping the attack. And then, slowly, his expression became one of pained anguish.

"Why, my dear sister... Why do you keep making me remember?"

-

Misery had looked for her mother everywhere, at no avail. She scowled again, her anxiety at her mother's reaction to the newly-created Balrog not eased by this strange absence. Misery closed her eyes and searched for her mother's presence. It was not something she did often, but this situation was different. She wanted to impress her mother or convince her she was not just an irresponsible brat. She searched the island and then finally located her mother... Inside the island's center. The forbidden area. And the protection covering it was gone.

When she realized this, Misery agonized for a few moments on what to do. She was curious about this out-of-bounds place almost as much as she was of the surface, but that could make her mother even angrier than before. She should just wait until her mother came back. Introduce her to Balrog. Prove her she could handle the world. And hopefully her mother would come to understand. Hopefully. If she bowed down her head and obeyed, her mother would surely allow her outside. Surely. That was the right thing to do...

-

"I do this because you must remember," Jenka said, her eyes never leaving Ballos. "You must remember who you were... And you have to come back to yourself. To who you are. To control this wild magic inside you now. You HAVE to remember, my brother. So you can recover."

It's a pity Jenka was so concentrated on her brother, because if not, she would have noticed a figure teleporting silently behind a pillar and peeking carefully at the situation.


	2. 2:Eye of Madness, Eye of Hate

**NOTE: Yeesh, sorry for delay. Things are always a little hectic, as usual, and so I finished this chapter a little late. I apologize. Hopefully the next chapter will be finished on time, athough I promise that, even if it's delayed, this story WILL be finished. I'll add the usual claims that I do not own Cave Story nor any of its characters or other properties. This is only fanfiction made for entertainment purposes and nothing else. Hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**2. Eye of Madness, Eye of Hate**

Ballos spoke slowly, his voice filled with grief: "I remember everything. My torturers... Burning and screaming. My friends as well... The king, along with the court, suffering like they never had before. All was filled with pain... My pain."

The room went silent again, Jenka with her eyes fixed upon Ballos. Misery quietly looking at the whole scene from her hiding spot behind a pillar, eyes wide with surprise and fear. Jenka sighed and spoke again. "You need to remember who you are. It's the only way you'll heal..."

"Heal!" He spat the word, angrily. "How should I heal if I cannot forget? If I always remember that day... If this hatred still runs in my veins like fire? Never! It will never end! As long as I live I will burn and kill and maim! Your brother is already dead, Jenka..." He opened his eyes for the second time, mismatched and yet equally terrible. "Kill me... Or set me free."

Misery's heart lurched when she heard this, and for a moment she felt empathy for this man (her uncle? He denied it, but that's what it looked like) and yet, she felt scared at the same time. It's never pleasant to see yourself reflected on someone so full of hatred, and his request for freedom, paired with his red-and-white eyes and the bones beneath his feet sent shivers down Misery's spine.

"Those bound by blood cannot kill each other, that's one of the oldest rules in Magic." Said Jenka, calm and collected as always. "And even if there wasn't this rule, I could never do something like that..."

"FOOLISHNESS!" Roared Ballos, snapping again. "Then free me! Let me rage and burn until they send the heroes to kill me! My hatred is stronger than me, and I am nothing but a puppet before its fury! Even when I died my magic, filled with hatred, went on. It would not let me die! It kept me alive! Burning! Laughing!" His eyes were now wide open, and terrible to behold. "There must be, in this world, something stronger than hate. Something stronger! There has to be! Something that can bring an end to my hate! **And I'll find it even if I have to kill every single creature in the world!**"

"I will not let you out to hurt anyone else. You are my responsibility. I will not allow another slaughter to happen. You are my responsibility. Jenka said the last word softly, almost to herself.

"I see, my dearest sister," said Ballos, his voice now calmer, but still filled with cold fury and cruel cynicism. "So that's why you keep your daughter trapped in this island. Safe and protected from the outside world," he then chuckled and looked at the pillar. His eyes met Misery's who felt her heart drop in despair.

From then on things happened quickly, one after the other. First Jenka turned to the pillar, and as she did she recognized her daughter's presence for the first time. She made a horrified expression and gave a small step towards her daughter. But at that moment Ballos grinned madly and hurled magically a new wave of lethal bones at Jenka, too distracted at Misery to defend herself. She would have been hurt too, if Misery had not desperately conjured bats out of thin air, hurling them against the attack and taking the damage that was intended at her mother. Ballos screwed his face with fury and waved at misery. With a cracking sound the lightning fell, but Jenka diverted it at the last minute and Misery felt the air burn where the lighting passed just inches from her left cheek and arm. Misery prepared another offensive spell, adrenaline rushing in her head, but Jenka interrupted that and quickly teleported both of them out of the room. Ballos, alone again, let out a scream of rage and anguish.

All of this happened in around ten seconds.

-

Misery was in her tiny room once again, sitting in the bed and staring at the wall with sad and listless eyes. The cramped the place was only emphasized by Balrog, who was looking from the features of the room, to his creator, back to the room. Its size stopped him from moving freely and bothered him. He also felt nervous at his creator's strange behavior, even considering his limited knowledge of what could be called 'normal', but had even less experience on how to deal with things like these.

"Hey, Misery. Why am I so big? It's pretty impractical sometimes, you know."

No answer came, which worried Balrog more. Even scolding was better. At least it indicated some interest, any at all, in him or at least at the world around her. He tried again. "It would be cool to go through walls or ceilings like a ghost or something.. I could show up suddenly and jump on top of people. Wouldn't that be great?"

The room kept silent. Balrog sighed and closed his eyes. This had happened ever since his first day of creation. First he waited all alone for some time, looking at the symbols and wandering around a little. He waited for his creator to come, but it took quite some time, and then he was suddenly teleported to this room by a distraught Misery who then proceeded to ignore him for the rest of the day and the next. He admitted this was not a very good start for a life, although he still kept up his optimism. He felt that if he just kept moving forward, things were bound to improve.

"I am going to be here forever." Balrog opened his eyes and realized Misery had spoken to him. "I've made her angry. She wouldn't listen. I... I've really done it this time," she said again. Balrog was happy at these words. They were not spoken with any trace of happiness, but at least they were SOMETHING.

"You'll get out, somehow. I'm sure you can do it," said Balrog confidently. Misery stared back at him for a few uncomfortable moments before replying.

"No. My mother won't let me... Her magic is too strong. I can't... It's impossible."

"You're very strong."

"Not enough... The only one in this island who could match her..."

And she did not speak another word after that. What she was thinking, Balrog could only imagine.

-

Balrog then watched as his creator and master slowly got out of her depressed mood, and into another, much more active but just as hard to communicate. Misery started reading books on magic, sometimes making notes on the margins or other nearby pieces of paper. She frequently asked him to go out and bring her something. One time it was some soil from the top of the island, and there he went, another time she needed some Jellyfish Juice and off he went to squish the thing. He did not complain though, and in fact quite liked these fetch trips. His creator had given him a small teleportation power, just strong enough to allow him to teleport to a few places ( phasing from the ceiling, as per his requests ) and he now had the chance to escape that tiny room and explore more of the strange world around him.

After a few days of fetching trips, obsessed research and silence, Misery finally put down all her books away slowly, cleaned the room, leaving only a few notes here and there and turned to Balrog. "I have a dangerous plan," she said.

"Can you tell me it?" Balrog asked, the curiosity overcoming his uneasiness at the 'dangerous' part.

"I need to escape this island. I can't remain here with my mother and her... Duties. I know it's selfish of me, but... I want to be free! I want to feel the real ground with my own feet! Is that so unreasonable?" She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, calming down in the process. "There is only one person in this island with enough power to help me. And I am going to ask him for help."

"Oh. That doesn't sound very dangerous," said Balrog, breaking into a small smile. Misery however, did not smile back.

-

Ballos was surprised to feel a presence sliding slowly into his room. It felt far away and weak, weaving and worming its way through the barrier around the room. Yes, he could feel it, coming closer and closer to breaking through and meeting him. Not Jenka, of course. She did not need to bother so much to work its way through something she could easily cancel at her whim. He had a good idea of who it was though, and a large, maniacal smile spread across his face.

When the figure of Misery slid into the room, Ballos was already facing her with a calm expression. "Greetings, daughter of Jenka. Congratulations on reaching this place."

Misery looked back cautiously, remembering very well how his mood could change quickly and without warning. "But you know that I'm not really here. This is just a projection so we could talk, that's all. We cannot hurt each other in any way."

Ballos smiled gently. "Of course."

-

Misery was in a large and mainly empty room, lying down. Around her were many symbols drawn with different substances and in strange shapes. She had her eyes closed and seemed to be in nothing more than deep sleep.  
"If I seem to be struggling or in pain then drag me away from the center of the runes as quickly as possible. It could mean the difference between life and death, understand?" She had told Balrog, and now he looked at her figure with a worried expression.  
What made it worse was that he couldn't even see the danger. But he knew it was there, Misery had told him so, and he would protect her from it. No matter what.

-

"I want to escape," said Misery, softly. Ballos kept his calm expression, impossible to read. She continued. "My mother keeps me a prisoner in this island. I want to see the world, to meet whoever I want and go wherever I feel like. I want to be free."

"And you seek my help? How do you expect me to aid you if I am even more of a prisoner than you? I would have to be free to help you more, no?" He gestured at the room. Misery's expression grew even more serious.

"I... I'm sorry, but... I can't let you out. I... I can't take the responsibility for what you do and... I don't want anybody to be hurt. I just want to get out. I'm sorry."

Ballos' smile widened and his voice went low and sarcastic. "Then you wish for me to help you and get nothing in return?"

"I want to ask only if there is anything I can do. Anything that will help me escape. I'm willing to put an effort on it. Please... Help me this once and I will never bother you again. Will you help me? From one prisoner to another?"

Ballos stood still for a few moments, thinking, while Misery's heart thumped with fear and expectation. Then finally he smiled again and answered. "I cannot help you directly. My magic has no power outside these walls. But... There is a way."

And he opened his eyes, still smiling, looking at Misery. One white as white as madness, one eye as red as hate.

-

Since the day his creator slept in the middle of those strange symbols and asked him to protect her, she looked happier despite nothing having changed much. She now asked him to get different things, such as 'a door with a hidden eye inside' or something similarly strange, and poured herself into research and experimentation. She also sometimes drew the symbols again and slept in there, always making him guard her. She was now occasionally visited by a slightly older woman with blonde hair, whom he after learned, was Misery's mother.

Balrog wondered why Misery always hid the things she was working on when her mother appeared, but as he looked into that strange metal thing with a single eye staring ahead menacingly he could see the point. The thing disturbed him.

What was it going to be anyways?

-

"The crown is almost finished. I followed all your instructions," spoke Misery. Ballos kept his blank smile, as always. There was a moment of silence before Misery interrupted it, asking anxiously. "Will it make me powerful enough to leave the island and break though my mother's spells?"

"Of course. And then you will finally be free."

His smile seemed to widen.

-

Misery was at the top of the island, the blue sky stretching to the horizon, cloudless and bright. Misery looked at the island for a moment, remembering all her memories of it. Now she would be finally free.

"Where are we going next, Misery?" Asked Balrog, looking a bit scared. He had never stepped off the island. Come to think of it, this almost applied to herself as well.

"I don't know," she said softly. "We are just walking to our freedom. That's what matters."

And then she put the crown on her head.

-

Jenka was in her room, petting gently one of her dogs when she felt it. The power of the shockwave hit her like a wave, leaving her stupefied for a single moment. Something was very wrong. Very, very wrong. The barrier had been broken.

BALLOS' barrier had been broken.

-

Misery raised her voice in a single pain-filled scream and then collapsed, the ugly crown falling out of her head. "Misery!" Screamed Balrog, jumping to her side. He raised her limp body and shook it gently. "Misery, are you ok? Please... Answer me!" But she did not move even a muscle, face as pale as marble, almost as if she was dead.

Somewhere in the Sand Zone a battle raged, such as the island had never seen before. A wave of fire raged, burning everything it could reach and crystallizing the very sand. "Foolish! You will only get yourself killed!" Ballos boomed, untouched amidst the inferno. A pillar made of earth raised from beneath his feet and he sprinted forward, avoiding being crushed by a slim margin and floating in the air after he jumped. He looked down and smiled at the figure below him, her clothes tattered, her face marked with soot. Blood trickled down her forehead and made a thin trail of red amidst the black and light brown. But her eyes still had that same cold, calculating stare.

"I will not let you escape!" Jenka stated calmly, and gestured at him. The earth pillar behind Ballos liquefied and wrapped itself around him. It rumbled a bit and then exploded from within, dust and debris flying everywhere.

"You will never stop me with these feeble attacks!" He raged, his mismatched eyes opened wide with fury. "Trying to trap me? Weakfen me? Not afraid to use full force?"

"Blood must not kill blood," was Jenka's only response.

"Pathetic! And now you are weak and exhausted, easily killed!" Fire burned in his hands again. "I'll be doing you a favor rea-" when he was cut in mid-sentence by a volley of beams and swords behind him. His arm was actually grazed and a few spatters of blood fell to the ground, almost in slow motion.

(In the future, where Ballos' blood fell during that terrible day, flowers grew. They were dark red and thorny, producing many seeds and never growing weak. They also carried Ballos' hatred and madness with them, and so, were called the Demon Flowers.)

Ballos turned and saw the source of the attack. Gaudis, many of them, their beetle-like bodies ready for battle and with no fear in their hearts. Also there were bats and minions, rushing towards him blindly. It was an army.

"You forgot the island's guardians," spoke Jenka.

-

Misery opened her eyes slowly for a moment, looking around confusedly. The memories of what had just happened came back then and she bolted up from the bed.

"Misery!" Cried Balrog, moving closer. "I was afraid you were not going to wake up! You just screamed after putting on that thing and..." His voice trailed away. Misery's face grew even paler, as she sensed what was going on in the island.

"No... Ballos... What have you done...? What have **I** done...?"

-

When Balrog and Misery arrived at the room, it was completely wrecked; the guardians' remains littered and throws mercilessly across the floor, some of them still burning. Amidst all that Misery felt her mother's presence, but when she approached her she could not believe her eyes. The woman in front of them was old and small, so weak-looking and so terribly hurt, bleeding her life away little by little every second. It was true her mother was old, but she always used magic to keep her appearance young. More than that, her mother always looked strong, with those calm and inflexible eyes. She never showed even a moment of weakness, ever, for as long as Misery could remember. So the impact this had on her was devastating, tears appearing in the corner of her eyes, her voice robbed of speech.

"What will we do...?" Whispered the terrified Balrog. Misery was woken up from her horror and her expression hardened, a cold rage burning in her eyes. She lifted her mother as gently as she could with her magic and placed her on Balrog's arms.

"Take her to the hospital in the labyrinth! Do it quick!"

"But..." Balrog began, before being interrupted by Misery.

"NOW!"

And Balrog floated upwards, fading into the ceiling with Jenka's wounded body in his arms. Misery looked around at the wreckage and then took one deep breath before teleporting away.

-

The sky had now grown orange-red as the sun set, casting long shadows on everything. The crown had been placed on the throne, its one eye staring ahead coldly. Misery glanced at it before turning her attention to what was between the crown and her. Ballos.

"Well, what do you want?" Ballos smiled. Despite being wounded in many places he still kept his presence and seemed intimidating. "I've spared you because you've done me a favor, but soon enough I will crash this miserable into the ground. Now go and get your beloved freedom. Isn't that what you wanted?"

Misery looked back coldly at him. "Then give me back the crown. I'm the one that made it."

Ballos smiled more, and then gestured at the crown. "I'm afraid I can't do that." They stared at each other silently for a moment and he added, lowering his voice. "You see... I used the crown's power to break through the spell. If the crown was somehow... Destroyed, I would be forced back into that hellish prison. You know that, don't you?" Misery stood in silence for a moment and then, without warning, threw a barrage of dark energy attacks flying at Ballos before teleporting. He gritted his teeth, his body smoking from the blast, and whispered. "It seems like my family will perish on this day."

The fight was complex and both of them fought with all they could. Misery teleported and threw spell after spell on him, conjuring also protection wards whenever she could muster, while Ballos unleashed blast after blast of fire and bones, and charged at her aggressively despite his wounds. He was tired, but powerful and she was inexperienced, but quick. They were evenly matched, and the fight went on furious and merciless. Ballos, then, angered beyond measure, concentrated for a moment and fire raged all around him, spreading like a wave. Misery barely had any time to summon a concrete block in front of her and let it absorb the blast, and concentrated on blocking the fire she didn't notice Ballos teleporting behind her. And when she did it was too late.

"Insolent child, you loose your life for nothing!" He spat, grabbing her by the neck and lifting her body as if she weighted nothing. She raised her staff to try to attack him but he just rammed her into the floor, her head hitting painfully the stone floor, and then lifted her again without letting go of the neck he squeezed tightly. Her vision blurred and unfocused as her head screamed with pain. She couldn't breathe and she could not even concentrate on her spells, much less finish them. Her mind slowly went blank.

"Huzzah!" And with this scream Balrog rammed into Ballos, who let go of Misery and was knocked back with a scream of surprise and rage. Misery coughed on the floor, too weak and hurt to move, and looked up at the big, blocky figure between her and the fearsome Ballos.

"Bal... Rog?" She whispered in between coughs. He turned to her. Ballos regained his composure and sneered.

"A servant? Well, one more death will mean nothing to this day. No, not a death. You are not even a living thing in the first place, are you?"

But Balrog just turned his face back towards Ballos with a frown and then charged forward. Ballos attacked him with his magic as well as his fists, but Balrog just ignored the damage and pressed forward, pressing his enemy back as much as he could. "I'm tired of games!" Roared Ballos and levitated out of Balrog's reach before blasting him down with lightning bolts. Smoking and crackling, Balrog finally stopped. "And what have you accomplished then, with your heroics? Aside from your own demise, of course!" The mad sorcerer jeered.

Balrog looked up and let a small smile appear on his square face. "Well, I managed to give Misery a Life Pot without you noticing, and I also distracted you. I think I did well."

Ballos eyes widened with hate and fear, and when he looked to the throne, Misery was there, her staff raised over the crown. "Yes, you've done very well," she said. And with a single magic blow of her staff, she shattered the crown, the sound of tearing metal mixing with Ballos' scream. He then dropped to his knees and his image began to crackle with magic and fade, his head bowed low.

Then he started laughing madly, still disappearing.

"You were defeated!" Shouted Misery, made uncomfortable by the hideous laughter.

"True," he answered, still laughing. "But I'm not the only losing side in here." He looked up at both of them, smiling.

One eye of madness, one eye of hate.

"I have slid a curse in this crown as it was created, you see..." He continued. "And now it was destroyed, it will become whole again. And those that created it shall now be made servants of the next user!" He laughed madly and screamed. "You will be prisoners for as long as I live! Helpless! Like me!"

A bubble of energy started forming around both Misery and Balrog, who looked in horror and struggled against it in vain. Ballos shouted one last thing before disappearing completely. "WELCOME TO HELL!"

"Misery!" Cried Balrog desperately, but Misery had no time to answer, for her senses then darkened and she lost consciousness.

-

Beneath the crimson sky Balrog and Misery floated, each in their own spherical prison. They looked asleep. And beneath them, the scraps of what once was the crown faded into red dust, and were blown away by the wind. All was silent and still, slowly fading into the darkness as the day came to an end.


	3. 3:The Twin Masterpieces

****

**NOTE: Late again, I know. Things were especially complicated this month. This chapter is slightly shorter than usual, but at least it's better than, I guess. Also, it looks like this story may get a little bigger. Around 5 chapters, I'd say. I'll add the next one around the 15th of April. I'll add the usual claims that I do not own Cave Story nor any of its characters or other properties. This is only fanfiction made for entertainment purposes and nothing else. Hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**Chapter 3: The Twin Masterpieces**

"No need to be nervous. Let me do the talking, alright?"

The room was small and had the feel of a comfortable, yet soulless place. There were a few decorations and the place was pleasant, but in an impersonal way, like a clerk with a polite and cold smile after working for six hours straight. It wasn't an inviting or heart-warming room. And in one of the chairs was a man in his early thirties, dirty blonde hair in need of some brushing and a pale, anxious face. Patting his shoulder was another man, burly and older-looking with short black hair and twinkling eyes, smiling widely. Both were wearing white lab coats. "But they'll probably ask me questions. They requested specifically for me, after all, "the younger one spoke nervously, rubbing the back of his neck absentmindedly.

"You're only the senior assistant. No need to worry. And if they ask anything just keep cool and answer them as simple as possible. Remember they're not technical people."

"Do you think they'll approve it?" Asked the younger scientist. But as the other one opened his mouth to answer him someone else entered the room, a middle-aged man with a suit and glasses.

"Dr. Miakid, Dr. Dott. The council is ready to hear you now. Please follow me," said the newcomer in a drab voice. As they left the room the older man turned to the younger one and winked.

"This is history in the making, my friend. Let's go and show them how to save the world."

This new room was much larger and intimidating. The room was round and so were the tables organized, all of them facing the center, where the two scientists stood. From behind the tables leaders of nations worldwide looked back at them, with expressions going from curiosity, to boredom, to contempt. Dott tried to swallow, but his throat was dry and he rubbed the back of his neck a bit until realizing he was doing so and stopped. Miakid, on the other hand, had dropped his playful tone and glanced at his notes with a calm and concentrated expression. The hushing noise of conversation slowly died down when two members behind the desk closest to the center got up. They waited until all were silent before speaking.

"The Worldwide Emergency Council is now in session. All members are present with the exception of the representatives of Elypso." There was an uncomfortable pause, as the reason why Elypso's leaders could not be at the council hung in the air. But the speaker continued. "The Council now acknowledges Dr. Miakid Huxley, Head Researcher of the Robotic Warfare Project, and Emerick Dott, Senior Assistant." The speakers sat down and all focused their attention on the two.

"We are at war," Miakid began. "it has already lasted for six years, and the costs, in lives, time and money, rises steadily for all. Now we need to give the final blow, and bring this to an end as quickly as possible. I believe we are all agreed on that." He paused slightly, but no one volunteered any opinion. "What we need, is a strong and powerful attack force that can strike quickly and efficiently at our opponent's base and destroy the center of all this. We must defeat Annachponae."

"If it was so easy don't you think this war would already be over?" Interrupted one of the leaders from Anshuri. Miakid was expecting the very old and militaristic country to be opposed to his project. In the beginning the country was seen by many as the hope of the Council against the new threat, but as the war continued and the causalities grew the hope turned into disappointment and despair. They had managed to secure small victories, but the price was high and the worst the situation got, the more Anshuri's leaders declared they were the only hope left in the Emergency Council. They would never admit weakness, nor being surpassed by any other group.

"As you must all know, the Robotics Warfare Project was created with the purpose of trying to introduce robotics into war. The research lasted longer than expected, but we have results. More than that, what we have is a solution to end the war." There was a snort of disgust from the Anshurian table, but another ruler asked:

"How will your new discovery change the tide of war as you say?"

Miakid smiled and replied. "We have managed to create a perfectly light, durable and efficient prototype of a Battle Robot. Its accuracy and endurance surpass the average human and it will not need rations or salaries or pensions. They are unaffected by morale. Completely loyal and obedient. Controlled safely by operators that can be miles away from the battlefield."

"What about the cost of mass-producing these... Warrior Robots?" Asked another leader sitting in the opposite side. Miakid turned and smiled calmly.

"The initial cost of the main circuitry may prove slightly expensive, but the robots can still be feasibly used and are definitely worth the investment. They can also be repaired easily, if damage is superficial enough."

"And what if these robots say... Malfunction. Or are sabotaged by a third party..."

"The robots may be shut down from afar by the operators. I assure you the risk is minimal."

There were a few other explanations and the discussion went on. Dott was only watching, sitting next to Miakid and looking nervously at the great men and women that had gathered to listen to Miakid's project. On the other hand Miakid seemed secure and relaxed.

"Now a question for you, Dr. Dott," said one of the leaders suddenly, and all the eyes of the room turned to him. "What is your opinion of the project, as Senior Assistant?"

He rubbed the back of his neck a little, hesitated and then began. "Well... The robots are strong, and we've got them functioning. Most of the problems are already solved. I don't know... But I like the idea of robots going to war instead of humans. It means less deaths and tragedies all around." He fidgeted a bit more, thinking of something to add, but his brain seemed empty as a dry well and he shut his mouth with a shrug.

"I see," was the dry reply.

-

One week after that day, the council approved the project, and factories were prepared for their new product. One month later the robots had marched over the floating island and after a bloody skirmish, managed to secure a base for the first time ever. Compared to the other soldiers, low on morale and exhausted, the robots were like an army of thousands.

And six weeks later...

-

"What is this that you keep working on for so long?"

Miakid inspected object in question, although object could be the wrong word to describe it. It resembled a Warrior Robot, but parts of him were covered with skin and flesh, and the gadgetry seemed different. Dott had white gloves and a mask, looking more like a doctor operating a patient than a robotics expert. He took the mask away and smiled embarrassedly, replying. "I am working on them for some time already. Before we even went to the Council. There's also another I'm working on. The process is delicate, so..."

"I can see that," remarked the Head Researcher, looking at the medical instruments lying all over the table. An IV was dripping what looked like blood inside the robot. "What I want to know is what is its purpose.. We're in the middle of a war, remember?"

Dott looked sheepishly away for a moment. "They're just a... Side project. I was thinking on creating an improved version of the current generation of warrior robots."

"And why are you grafting skin and veins and... What else have you done to it?"

"Ah, that's the key, really." And here Dott abandoned his embarrassed look and began talking quickly, absorbed in his own world. "The robots' weak point, really, is their artificial intelligence and capability of responding quickly to danger. They take a long time to act if not ordered by an operator and can't innovate or use different strategies as well as humans. So I tried to design a robot capable of supporting both a hardware mainframe for certain operations and a biological computer for other functions. One as binary, the other as ternary. Of course, I need to supply the robot with other things, to enable the artificial brain to survive, so a few radical alterations had to be made, and since I had already done so much, why not add the skin and other human characteristics, since it's just a small step. I'm cloning everything, of course, but the artificial..."

"Stop, Dott. Stop." Miakid closed his eyes and massaged his own head with a grimace. "Do you have any idea how far are you endangering our project with this? I mean... This robot you're talking about... It wouldn't be operated by anyone, would it?"

"No..." Dott rubbed the back of his neck and was about to launch on a long explanation when interrupted by Miakid.  
"These robots aren't operator-controlled. They are more unstable than the fully robotic ones, and on top of that have a biologic brain. You know what that means don't you? Instincts. Emotions. We're talking about blurring the barrier between living and non-living here. Heck, a project like this would be banned in a normal situation."

"That's why I have to complete it now, while I can," said Dott, in a pleading voice. "Please, let me finish them. The council doesn't need to know the whole story. And they will help with the war, I promise."

"But Dott... We can't mass-produce these robots. I mean... Look at what you are doing! It's surgery!"  
"I think that... Having a personality and a motivation... Could help... Make them better fighters..." mumbled the young researcher, his eyes cast down. Miakid looked at him and sighed.

"Look, you can complete these two. We'll call it... I don't know. A trial version of an upgrade or something... But I want these robots to still have an emergency system to de-activate them. We need them to be safe. I don't want to be killed by a crazy robot."

"Yes. Certainly," Dott nodded, smiling with relief. "I will create an emergency switch-off system right away."

"But let me warn you," added Miakid, taking one last look at the new robot. "These robots will never work at a real war. They can't be mass produced, and in a war the important thing is numbers. I'm sorry to tell you this, but your project will never be worthwhile."

"I just wanted to create a..." Dott hesitated for a moment, searching for the right word. "A masterpiece."

"Numbers win wars. Not masterpieces," the other replied flatly.

-

"Field report?" The operator turned on his chair and saw Miakid's burly figure behind his chair, looking at the screen. The room was dark and tense, filled with the tapping noise of keys and hurried steps as the operators walked to and fro. Even if they were far from the warfront, the danger could still be felt in the air, tasting like copper.

"We had another skirmish with Annachponnae himself. The team involved suffered heavy losses."

"Again, huh? He's putting himself in danger a lot lately." Miakid smiled confidently, looking at the screen announce the status of the metal army under their control. "How come he is so strong anyways?"

"Umm... We have no real proof of anything, but... He is always wearing a strange helmet whenever we have had contact. Some of our visual data shows it, if you would like to see it."

"Hmm. It's kinda ugly," Miakid frowned at the image on the screen, the cold metal object with a single eye that seemed to always be staring at you. "Still, I wouldn't mind researching that thing a little, hmm? Think the Old Croc will lend it to us once we beat him?" The operator smiled politely back and wondered the chances of killing Annachponae without damaging the crown. He wouldn't put any bets on it.

-

The robot opened its eyes, no, HER eyes, and what she first saw was a white room, filled with strange machines, medical instruments and a bed she was lying on. Then a man turned to her (her creator, Dr. Emerick Dott, her database instantly supplied) and smiled nervously.

"Hello, Curly. Welcome to the world."

"Hi," she replied, staring at him with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. Her creator's smile widened.

"Don't worry. We will talk soon and I'll explain everything. And tomorrow..." He glanced at the table beside her and then turned his gaze back, smiling.

"Tomorrow we wake up Quote."


End file.
